


Collision

by astralchaos, Sweetkenny



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space Opera, End of the World, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Kyman Week, Love/Hate, M/M, Multi, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Slurs, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralchaos/pseuds/astralchaos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetkenny/pseuds/Sweetkenny
Summary: An extra-terrestrial population has long waited for the extinction of Earth to assuage its domination over the human population. The people who survived the end of the World had to choose between perishing or emigrating to the planet Semele.Kyle became a Guardian for the Government of Semele. When the government suffers a terrorist attack from the Human’s Revolt Party, he recognizes one of its leaders.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman
Comments: 18
Kudos: 35





	1. Wicked Games

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a multiple-chapters story I wanted to write a long time ago and decided to post it for the fifth day of Kyman Week ! I've decided to combine the two prompts 'Fantasy' and 'Soulmates'. 
> 
> I decided to introduce a playlist for this story, and u'll find approximately one song per chapter. Enjoy !
> 
> EDIT : Astralchaos is my co-creator on this story. She helps me a lot for the correction of the story and gives me plenty of advices/suggestions on the plot. She's incredible!

It had only been a matter of days until the Earth burned down. Human beings had never taken the countless warnings about global warming seriously. Everyone was much more concerned with superficial problems: politics, the economic system, nationalism and supremacism, power. And the list goes on. The days leading up to the end of the World had become unbearable: protests multiplied across the globe, shortages worsened in stores, and people fought each other for food. The air had gotten heavier and heavier, and the heat had killed part of the population, mainly the weakest. Only few of the babies born in the summer of 2037 had survived. The elderly were either dead or bedridden in hospitals that were already overworked. The animals' natural habitats were perishing, and many had moved to live among humans, in the cities, where you could find the last quantities of drinking water and edible food. Corpses of various species had littered the sidewalks and a putrid odor had spread in the largest cities. Many diseases had also developed, transmitted from animals to humans. Suffice to say the World had been in a very bad state.

What had been hell for the earthly population had been a boon for an alien population. The Biatas lived on a planet of the Alpha Centauri planetary system, that had properties similar to Earth, but whose area was much smaller. They had observed the earthly people since the beginning of their existence and knew that this day had to arrive because of their negligence towards their environment. But it was an opportunity for the Biatas to dominate the earthlings who posed the greatest threat. Why? Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. On the day of August 27 of the year 2037, everyone had a choice – to die a slow death during the deluge or to go and live on another planet. Meaning not everyone could come to this new planet: Semele. The second choice had its drawbacks, which was to submit to the people and the government of the Biatas. Indeed, Semele had become a welcoming land. By offering sanctuary to the survivors, the Biatas were granting humans a favor. It had therefore become their duty to be obedient. Something that was not necessarily to everyone's taste.

Stan Marsh had had a hard time convincing his family to follow the Semele Guardians in the transport ships that would take them to their new home. Randy Marsh could be terribly stubborn at times: he had no trust in these beings coming from elsewhere. Stan had been torn between staying with his family or following his best friend, Kyle, who had made up his mind to leave Earth and had managed to convince his own family to do the same. Unfortunately, Stan did not have the same persuasiveness with his parents and sister. Abandoning them had been inevitable.

Kenny had voluntarily abandoned his parents to start a new life with his brother and sister on the planet Semele. He also worked for the government, but not in the same position as Kyle. He wanted to be paid well, but not to be involved politically. What could be better than working in the government kitchens? He could listen discreetly to all the gossip of the political life of Semele. And on top of that, he could regularly see his best friend Kyle.

Kyle had been a Guardian for five years now. He was part of the Government Guard and had the role of protecting buildings belonging to the political elite. He also had a rank of First Lieutenant in the Air Force. If he was this committed to protecting the Biatas people, it was a way for him to protect his own family. Being close to the people at the top of the pyramid gave him a comfortable and peaceful standard of living. He did not feel at all close to the original Biatas people. It was all just a way to save his ass. It was pure logic. He knew that for the rest of eternity, human immigrants would see their well-being come after that of the people who had always lived on Semele. The feeling of belonging to a tribe, a country or an identity, which leads to favoring the members of your own clan, was a phenomenon as old as the World. And Kyle didn’t want his family to be in the hot seat the day the government decided to pursue a policy against humans.

Kyle was sitting at the bar of a restaurant located in the main building called _Centrum_. The building consisted of the Governor's office as well as the offices of his collaborators. There were countless rooms reserved for political speeches and emergency meetings. The majority of them were secret and he had no idea what they could hide. He was wearing his all-white uniform: a short-sleeved shirt tucked into his pants, the buttons, sleeves and hem of his pants decorated in a bright yellow color. His black leather belt had a buckle in the shape of a golden rectangle, on which engraved was his number, which allowed his colleagues to know his rank and identity.

"Hey, **2605AFL**. What can I get you? I think you deserve to have a beer."

An amused smile appeared on Kyle's lips. He didn't need to look up to find out that it was Kenny who had spoken to him.

"I can't drink, Kenny, I'm still on duty." However, this day had been particularly trying, and he would have given anything to drink a refreshing beer. "I happen to have a thirty minute break so I came to chat with my best friend."

The blond made a point to get him a glass and serve him a drink made from a fruit that could only be found on Semele. It was very sweet, and the taste reminded Kyle of mangoes. Kenny liked to contradict him by saying that it tasted more like bananas. However, the color of the drink was cyan blue. 

Kyle thanked him before taking a sip. Its freshness was satisfying.

"Yeah, watching the bathroom door while the Governor is taking a shit must be hard work."

The two boys laughed frankly. Kenny liked provoking his friends. He didn't _really_ want to belittle the redhead's work, but the latter still wondered about how often the blond took a dig at him. Sometimes, he felt like Kenny really looked down on what he did. It was quite disturbing.

"Is being a stooge in the kitchen _so_ different?"

"At least I can spit in their food without them ever knowing it."

Kyle bit his lip to keep from laughing again. If one of his colleagues ever heard him, Kenny risked big repercussions for such comments. But it would surely not be Kyle who would denounce him. He would never dare betray one of his only friends.

"You know," the blond started, which pulled Kyle out of his musings. "You should really come with me to a party. I know some good places in the Dipolela district."

The redhead was surprised at the waiter's solemn expression. It wasn't the first time that Kenny insisted on taking Kyle to one of these parties. He didn't understand what was so amazing about them.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

He was now avoiding his gaze as he wiped the glasses he had just washed. "It would allow you to relax a bit. Get a break from your work."

"It's just... it's difficult for me," Kyle admitted while tapping his fingers against the bar counter. "I'm too old to go to parties. I don’t think you’ll really have fun with me. I don’t even drink that much. And meeting new people doesn't interest me—"

"I promise you, you **need** to meet these people," Kenny cut him off abruptly. "I mean, they’re nice and they’ll bring joy into your life. You can’t stay forever by yourself." He attempted a smile to convince the redhead.

The young Guardian looked at him, puzzled. He had parted his lips to answer but his gaze quickly turned towards some of his colleagues who were running in the hall. A robotic voice rose through the megaphones of the building to announce, " _Code Eleven. I repeat, Code Eleven. Mobilization of Air troops_ ”. 

Kyle had to go join them. He gave Kenny one last look, and the blond whispered, "Be safe," before Kyle started running to get to the airfield as quickly as possible.

He hated going on a mission without being mentally prepared. In these moments, it was necessary for him to turn off his inner voice – which was asking thousands of questions – to be able to put his brain in autopilot-mode. When an emergency was declared at the military base, the duty of 2605AFL was to obey blindly. It was one of the many flaws that he experienced in his job. When he arrived breathless at the takeoff runway after a few minutes, he motioned for his group of flight cadets to follow him and occupy his ship. He entered the aircraft, followed by his assistants, and settled quickly in the cockpit. Code Eleven was rare. It meant that a government base was under attack. And that had never happened in Kyle's five years of service.

**_"2605AFL, we need you to drop section 112 above the Oraculum building. Over."_ **

"Affirmative. Out," Kyle replied over the radio. He then turned to his flight attendant. "Make sure the cadets are all ready."

"Yes, Lieutenant," the assistant replied before rushing to the back of the ship where all the cadets were setting up and putting on their gear. 

When Kyle received clearance from the control tower, he finally took off. The speed was such that they would arrive on the Semele satellite in less than ten minutes. Fortunately, the redhead knew he had a quality team on which he could rely on. They would be perfectly successful in carrying out the orders of their superiors, there was no doubt.

The maneuver was quick. When they arrived near the building where the attack took place, the flight attendant took charge of giving the directions and called the cadets in turn so that they could jump from the ship then land by parachute on the roof of the building. Truth be told, Kyle never knew what was so important about this building. He wasn't authorized to find out. He wondered if one day he would have the opportunity to enter the premises and reveal its mysteries. But he had always thought curiosity killed the cat. Sometimes, certain truths deserved to be kept out of sight. He could now see through his cockpit the green parachutes deploying in the sky. He leaned over the radio to transfer a new message.

"Spacecraft 112 above the Oraculum. Waiting for orders. Over."

No one answered. Generally, the answer was given a few seconds later. He had been waiting for several minutes now. Kyle was flying over the building without knowing if the control tower still needed him. He had never been in this kind of situation before. And he didn't dare go back to the airfield. After what seemed like an eternity, thinking about what could be the next steps of the operation, he heard:

**_"Coordinates 48.8583 ° N 2.3375 ° E."_ **

_The fuck?_ Kyle thought at first. It wasn't a common way of communicating. The voice had also changed and was no longer that of the regular instructor.

"Say again."

**_"Just come to coordinates 48.8583 ° N 2.3375 ° E. One of our men has been shot, he needs an emergency extraction!"_ **

The voice on the radio sounded exasperated. Kyle had absolutely no idea what to do. It was not his duty to care for the wounded and yet the transmission was intended for him. He wondered if there was a transmission error, but he still decided to go to the meeting place, since he hadn't received any other orders anyway. Strangely, the place was a little further away from that of his mission and he wondered if there had been several simultaneous attacks. The possibility scared him.

The aircraft arrived in a deserted region of the satellite. There was no hint of a military spacecraft or Guardians on the ground or even in the air. As he got closer to the coordinate points, he gradually lowered the aircraft to get closer to the ground. What seemed to him like a black spot on the ground in the middle of the sand far ahead of him, only got bigger as he got closer before he could finally see the silhouette of a person. The man wasn't wearing formal attire and there was no sign of another injured man. It wasn't until he came within a few feet of the stranger that Kyle realized the person was pointing a gun at his cockpit.

"HOLY SHIT!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes wide.

His flight attendant quickly arrived in the cockpit, taking a seat behind him. "Lieutenant, where are we—"

Kyle suddenly lowered himself under the control panel. The ship was heading straight for the stranger, who had just fired at them with his weapon. The green laser-bullets coming out of it hit the flight attendant right in the head. He let out a muffled cry as he collapsed to the ground, but Kyle hadn't even noticed – the ship had just crashed to the ground with extraordinary violence. Even if the safety devices had made it possible to automatically slow down the ship and avoid an explosion, Kyle had hurt himself in several parts of his body and had inadvertently cut the skin at the top of his head when he was propelled in the back of the cabin. He immediately lost consciousness.

But only momentarily. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling that there was a lot of blood running down his face. His outfit, initially white, was now stained with dirt and bright red. His whole body was numb. He was trying to mobilize his muscles to get up but gave up when he heard footsteps walking against the metal floor. He couldn't even turn his head and was forced to stare at the ceiling right in front of him. _So, this is how I am going to die?_ The cockpit lights began to burn his retina when a figure entered his vision. A body was leaning over him. The only thing Kyle could spot was a blazing smile.

"No. Fucking. Way. Kyle Broflovski, as I live and breathe."

The sound of the man’s voice was like an adrenalin shot straight through Kyle's veins. His eyes opened wide and he could finally recognize the mythical features of the man's face. Even the five years on Semele could never have removed the memories of their relationship that were vividly etched into his mind. His body didn't know how to react.

"Mh. I can see you’re still a ginger."

His stupid smile sent Kyle off the edge. He sent his fist right into Eric Cartman's jaw, which made him trip back several meters as he groaned in pain.

Kyle tried to get up as quickly as possible, grimacing. His hand tried to touch his weapon stored in his belt. When he was about to draw it, he felt an arm around his neck suffocating him. His whole body was pressed against the young man's chest.

"You're forcing me to do things I didn't want to do," Cartman said, his voice still calm as he used all his might to immobilize the Guardian.

"JUST GET OFF OF ME! YOU’LL SEE HOW I’M GOING TO SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE YOU SON OF A BITCH—" Kyle was screaming as he jumped off his feet and tried to use his shoulders to destabilize his enemy, but nothing helped. His grip was far too strong and his hand had to drop his weapon on the ground.

Cartman dragged him to the door of the ship leading outside, then pointed his own weapon at the redhead's temple to keep him from moving any longer. "This is your only chance to help me, _Kahl._ You can still choose to be on the right side of history. Don’t fuck this up."

"The right side of history?! You're a terrorist and a fat piece of shit, Cartman! How’s that?!" Kyle hissed between his teeth before screaming in pain as he felt the brunet’s foot kick his back. He fell into the sand, his head facing the ground. He was so pissed off at himself for falling so easily into the asshole's trap. Even after so many years.

Cartman was still aiming his gun at the redhead. His lips were a bit damaged from Kyle's blow, but that still didn't stop him from smiling. "What a pity. We could have used that nice ass at the HRP," he snickered and he entered the cockpit again.

Kyle wanted to destroy him. He turned on his back to watch helplessly as the ship restarted. He could only shout a “TRAITOR!” before the terrorist took off, leaving a miserable, mocked Guardian behind.

He wanted Cartman dead.

COLLISION PLAYLIST

[CHAPTER I - Wicked Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9KG7_Jd4WE) [Chris Isaak](LYRICS%20URL) 4:49

[Code by Layouttesst](http://layouttesst.livejournal.com/profile)


	2. Split me an Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally ! Here's chapter two. It will give a little bit more context. Hope you'll enjoy it :)
> 
> EDIT : the chapter was corrected by the amazing astralchaos !

"TRAITOR!" He remembered screaming at the man who stole his aircraft. Kyle found himself on his knees in the middle of the desert, his throat sore from screaming and his body and limbs on fire. Tears of rage rolled down his cheeks, mingled with the dried blood on his skin. After the frenzy of the moment, he felt a great emptiness creep into him. He had just seen an old friend from South Park who he thought was missing. During all these years, he had kept imagining the worst possible scenarios about Cartman. Did he die on Earth, in the midst of the flames? Had he been enslaved in another area of Semele? Or was he homeless in a dangerous neighborhood? No. The son of a bitch was part of a small group that sought to overthrow the government. To be grateful towards the Biatas was apparently not in the fatass’ plans. Of course he needed to screw it all up, even on another planet. While still crying, Kyle laughed hysterically. He had put in so much effort to get by on this planet, and once again, Cartman was about to destroy all his hopes. Like good old times. 

Dehydrated, unarmed and without any vehicle, he passed out lying on the sand. Luckily, military doctors had found him while unconscious, and put him in their vehicle to bring him back to Semele, where he could be hospitalized. He was pretty wounded.

The next day, he was already out of the hospital and his parents picked him up so that he could rest at home. Along the way, they kept telling him that his job was starting to get too dangerous and that he should think about another career. Which, to be honest, pissed him off a lot. No one seemed to understand his choice of career, or what his job might involve, though it was obvious to Kyle. Deep down, he knew that scrambling to protect the planet had been a good choice. But he also understood his parents had never expected their eldest son to end up in the military. They had had so many hopes for his future.

Lying in his brother Ike's bed, Kyle was watching him as he sat at his desk a few feet away.

"How’s university?" he managed to say with a low voice. He felt like he had a terrible fever.

Ike lifted his head briefly to look at his older brother, surprised the latter was awake. Ike was now the same height as Kyle and was surely to surpass him in size in no time. Their physical differences were obvious, since Ike was adopted. However, it had never been an obstacle in their relationship. Ike was less pale than Kyle. His hair was long and jet black, falling down the back of his neck. He had a small nose and glowing skin without blemishes. Sometimes, Kyle used to be envious of certain physical features of his little brother. But never in an unhealthy way. He loved him way too much.

Ike sighed as he released the pen he was holding in his hand. "It's okay. The lessons aren’t difficult. It's just... I still feel like I don’t belong here."

They had had this discussion before. Kyle's gaze dropped to stare at the bedroom rug. He no longer knew how to reassure his brother. It had been so hard for Ike to integrate into this new society. Kyle didn't feel the same. In the military, they were all treated the same. The redhead even had a higher military grade than some Biatas. Hence, he had never felt uneasy and didn't feel like he was being belittled by others. But it was the army. Relations there were purely formal and practical. Kyle had never really ventured into the city's social spots. Perhaps he had unconsciously joined the army to avoid these places?

"Has anyone given you trouble?"

"No. Not really." He looked up at the wall in front of him as he rocked his chair. "There’s this really fuckable Biatas girl who friendzoned me."

Kyle immediately rolled his eyes when he heard the word _fuckable_. But he didn't bother to reprimand him for his language. Ike was now an adult. Kyle's role was no longer to educate him. "Poor boy, feeling rejected by this planet because a girl dumped him." he said, laughing at him.

Ike snickered. "Well, it doesn’t help to feel accepted."

"Do you think she rejected you because you're human?" He lay down on his left side to face his little brother fully and put both hands under his cheek.

"Yeah. They have this fucking traditional belief that they all have a soulmate, and everyone thinks that a human can’t be the soulmate of a Biatas since they have nothing in common physically or culturally."

Kyle could see on Ike's face that this event had a real impact on him. He felt sorry and helpless. But he still didn’t regret having immigrated to Semele. It was either do or die. "The concept of soulmates existed even in the United States. In the whole world, actually. And a lot of people believed in it."

Ike shook his head negatively. "Here… it's different. They take it on a whole other level. They think finding their soulmate will give them incredible powers, a better life expectancy, or some bullshit like that." 

Kyle had heard of this belief before. But he never gave that much credit to it. He considered it to be just one of those odd features of a people they were just getting to know.

"I… Don’t think it’s _that_ serious, to be honest."

"Yeah me too, like, who could be your soulmate? You're too weird for someone to match with." Ike bit his lip to keep from laughing and Kyle hurled a pillow in his face.

"Go fuck yourself."

"You’re lucky you’re sick. I would have kicked your ass."

"Ha. You wish," Kyle laughed before lying on his back again to gaze at the ceiling.

After a moment, Ike spoke again. "So… how did the terrorist look like?"

Kyle’s heart skipped a beat.

"You didn’t give us many details."

Kyle's fingers wriggled nervously under his blanket. Obviously, he hadn't dared admit that the person who attacked him was Eric Cartman. He could have mentioned it. But he physically couldn't. It would be like confessing a weakness. That after five years Cartman could still have such an impact on his life and on his body wasn’t an idea he could digest right now.

"He’s human," he finally said. He wet his lips which were very dry. "In fact, he was very ordinary. And fat."

Ike chuckled as he heard his brother's description of the terrorist before going back to his homework. Kyle didn't want to think back to the events of the last few days. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to think of something else. He figured he would give Kenny a chance and go with him to one of his parties. If Kyle found it pleasant, he could suggest Ike to come with them. Perhaps he’ll meet more open-minded people there and feel more accepted.

* * *

Two days later, if you referred to the Christian calendar, was the 27th of August, 2042. The fifth anniversary of the end of the world. The day when a tiny part of the human population had been saved. The day Kyle's fate changed dramatically. But it was also a very dreadful day for other people.

His eyes were gazing at his feet as he walked through a remote part of the capital. Here, the streets were silent and the majority of businesses were closed since the place was not very inhabited and therefore not very profitable. Kyle was wearing his civilian clothes for once. Khaki pants, a white t-shirt and a brown checked shirt. He took a right turn and he arrived to a large square where a monument was erected. In the middle of the square there was a statue several meters high, made of granite. It represented a huge globe on which stood a woman and a man, completely naked and hugging each other. Very similar to the representations of the biblical myth of Adam and Eve. At the bottom of the statue, you could read a plaque where homage was paid to all living things that perished in the flood on the 27th of August 2037. The place was deserted. Only a young man sat on a bench, facing the statue.

"I guessed you would be here," Kyle said after slowly moving closer, and silently taking a seat next to him.

Stan remained silent, staring at an empty spot right in front of him, lost in thought. After a few minutes, he turned his face to his best friend and frowned. He raised his hand and brushed the redhead's jaw to observe his bruises.

"What happened to you?" he asked with a hoarse voice.

Kyle smiled weakly. "Nothing. Just an accident at work."

Stan withdrew his fingers and sighed, looking at the monument again. His best friend thought the brunet must have been crying a lot as he observed his red eyes. He had always felt terribly guilty for having managed to save his whole family. Some nights he couldn't even sleep. Once again, today seemed like a very inopportune time to recount his meeting with Cartman. He'll talk to him about it... Later.

"Are the feelings the same?" Kyle hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. "Five years later?"

"It's like every year they come back even stronger," he replied, his voice shaking slightly. Stan's fists tightened on his thighs. He was refraining from letting his tears flow again. "Sometimes I hope they go away. That one day I can get my life back. But no. Each day, it’s even worse." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Kyle had been so invested in his work in order to forget the atrocities he and his entourage had to go through five years ago, that he had slowly drifted away from those around him, including Stan, although reluctantly. He couldn't bear to deal with these painful memories every day. Maybe he would have even experienced depression too, like his best friend. He needed this job to preserve his sanity. To tell himself he was useful for something, or someone. That his life still made sense. But the truth was, nothing was the same anymore. And existence had considerably lost its flavor.

"If only you knew. I have so many regrets. I would give my soul for my family to come back to life. I would give anything to turn back time. To return to the shithole that South Park is. I miss it so much." His sobs resumed. Silently, his tears flowed and his shoulders were seized with spasms. Kyle's heart sank. He felt guilty about the situation. Guilty of Stan's condition. Guilty of the death of his family. He rested his head on the brunet's shoulder and hugged his body with his left arm. They enjoyed the silence of the neighborhood together.

"Stan… I promise you if I…" He paused for a moment and laughed nervously. "I don’t know. Maybe what I'm saying doesn't make any sense. But if I find out there is a way to bring them back, I’ll do whatever is possible to make it happen. Even if… I have to give up my life." And Kyle was honest in his words.

The brunet snorted. "You’re not hearing yourself—"

"I promise you,"’ Kyle cut him off.

These words, while utopian, had reassured a tiny part of the boy's heart. Kyle closed his eyes in turn and let himself go against the body of his best friend, allowing himself to be enveloped by his heat and his smell, and took advantage of this quiet moment. The redhead had a heavy heart too. A multitude of thoughts and memories had tortured him for the past five years. And all of this without being able to confide in anyone around him. But they were nowhere near as horrific as his childhood friend could experience. One day he would confide in Stan too. He badly needed it. But for now, he preferred to give him his full attention.

_Same day, at the Humans' Revolt Party Headquarters_

Cartman stood in front of a board several feet long that left hardly any free space on the wall. On the board were hanging several documents that gave information about the government as well as the progress of their mission. His heterochromatic eyes were fixed on the part that revealed the composition of the government teams. One third of the people who worked in the government had been identified by the Party. While HRP members were very pleased with the efforts to advance the cause, it wasn't pride that Cartman was feeling at this precise moment. He felt puzzled.

He had a black felt-tip pen in his left hand. His brain wanted more than anything to lift his hand, but his arm refused to move. He remained still. Yet, 48 hours ago, Cartman identified another member of the military: _Kyle Broflovski_. The rule was simple. When an HRP member discovered the identity of a member of the opposing camp, then they had to enter that member's name on the information board. But the idea that Kyle was part of the enemy army and that Cartman was on the People's Liberation side didn't ring true. It seemed like the world was upside down. He couldn't bring himself to write his name on that damn paper, on that damn board. In the back of his mind was hidden a sweet fantasy: one day Kyle would join them. It was usually his role to fully use his brain and recognize an oppressed people. After all, he was Jewish. Who knew better than this red-haired Jew the definition of an oppressed people? And why—

"Cartman, why the hell are you smiling to yourself?"

The brunet jumped when he heard Butters' voice. He gave him a panicked look. 

"Don't you know to knock before you walk into a room?" the man asked, annoyed.

The smaller one glanced behind him furtively. "There’s absolutely no door—"

"What if I was jacking off, huh? Would you have loved to see that?" he cut him off, crossing his arms over his chest.

"NO!" Butters cried, eyes wide open.

"Fine. That’s what— Wait, no. That’s not the answer I was expecting. You’re lying, you would have definitely loved to see me jacking off." He rolled his eyes as if it was obvious before putting the black marker on the nearest desk.

Butters looked at him, baffled. "But… Why would you indulge in acts of solitary pleasure in the workroom?"

"Because every time I discover important clues I am so happy with my contribution that I instantly get a boner?"

The blond didn't seem to be convinced by his old friend's response. He preferred to change the subject. "Wendy's waiting you on stage to start the speech."

Cartman's lips curved into an 'O'. He had completely forgotten. He brushed past Butters and hurried to the amphitheater. The other followed a few steps behind him, jogging to keep up with his speed.

The headquarters was a small building well hidden on Semele's satellite. It was a landmark for the 230 party members, mostly made up of human beings. A few Biatas had also joined them, but never came to the building for fear of retaliation from the authorities. They acted from a distance and joined them from time to time in certain bars of Semele. The building consisted of a few dormitories on the top floor as well as several bathrooms. Offices and meeting rooms were located on the second, third and fourth floors. The ground floor was reserved for the amphitheater and the garden at the rear of the building, and the basement hid the various combat weapons and mission equipment that the group had managed to steal.

Eric arrived breathless at the backstage. Wendy Testaburger was already there alongside her two secretaries, and she was now staring at him with folded arms, unimpressed. She was always dressed impeccably. Eric only made such effort when he needed to convince a large audience with his speech. She noticed that the brunet had plastered his hair with styling wax and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his black shirt. She concluded that she was much more attractive in her long emerald green pencil skirt, wearing a beret in the same color, a white shirt and high heels. The two young people wore the HRP crest on their shirts, at the level of their hearts: the symbol representing the terrestrial globe in red color.

"You really didn't have to come. I’ve got this," she said with a fake sympathetic smile as Cartman moved closer to her, and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Cartman shrugged the girl's hand off his shoulder, then pulled something out of the back pocket of his pants. With a dazzling smile, he stuck in her face a square twenty centimeters across, covered in what appeared to be gold leaves. In Greek letters was inscribed _προφητεία_ 𝜊 in the center of the square. _προφητεία_ meant prophecy, and 𝜊 was one way the greek used to represent zero. Wendy looked at it, astonished.

"Where and what—" She couldn't believe her eyes.

"You didn’t think we’d come back from the mission empty-handed, did you?" the brunet asked, taunting his colleague.

"What is it, Cartman?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the object for a moment. It couldn't be…

"The _original prophecy_." He looked more serious this time, but his eyes were still filled with mischief and excitement. "The focal point of their religion. The direct access to supreme power."

Wendy ran both hands over her face and then through her hair, her eyes wide open. "WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ANYTHING?" she yelled. The few people around them were also staring intently at the object the man was holding in his hands. 

"Because _I_ am going to have the exclusivity on this find and you, Testaburger, you will have the privilege of admiring me from the spectator seats." He winked and turned his back on her before walking towards the stage.

"It’s not an ego-driven contest, argh," she mumbled, gritting her teeth. But she didn't waste any more time getting mad at him. The news was so great that the anger quickly dissipated. She was excited too. Just like a scientist who finds a cure. If Eric was telling the truth, then maybe today would mark the start of a new era. The one where the Humans' Revolt Party would emerge victorious. 

When the young man's legs reached the middle of the stage, he briefly felt the lights of the spotlight blind him. Then, he could see the two hundred faces that were in the darkened part of the room, staring at him. Everyone was silent when he arrived. His brothers and sisters were eagerly awaiting to hear what one of the party leaders would reveal to them. Cartman swallowed. He was used to putting on a show since he was a child. But right now, the atmosphere felt different. 

"Today marks the fifth anniversary of our death. The fifth anniversary of our condemnation to servitude." He paused for a moment to take turns staring at a few faces in the crowd. "And I can tell you with certainty, our efforts finally allow us to say that this will be the last year."

Whispers suddenly arose in the room. Wendy's and Butters' heads poked out slightly from behind the backstage curtains to listen intently to the man's words. They exchanged apprehensive looks.

"I am happy to report that our last mission to the Oraculum was a great success. This could never have happened without the strength, the solidarity, the confidence and perseverance that all of you here have shown." 

The whispers stopped. All were excited to hear what the main purpose of this meeting could be.

"I didn’t come back empty-handed from our expedition." He walked over to the edge of the stage, and pulled out the famous object to show it to the whole audience. 

"Today we will finally find out what the ultimate secret of the Biatas elite is! I, ladies and gentlemen, have the original prophecy in my hands!" 

All the members rose from their seats, expressing their joy through shouts, applause, hissing and embraces. Eric watched the scene unfold before his eyes, his smile showing all of his teeth and his hand still holding the prophecy in the air. A few feet away, Wendy was whispering to Butters.

_"We don't realize how much we are up to our necks in shit."_

" _You think so?_ " Butters asked naively.

In deep thought, the brunette had lowered her eyes to the ground. _"When the government realizes that the original prophecy is gone, they will execute us one by one in the public arena_."

Butters swallowed and answered in a shaky voice. " _Personally, I don't think it will be that bad."_

"I will now read to you our destiny." 

Again, silence fell just as quickly. Cartman opened the golden square in his hands. A square was now in each of his hands, and in the middle of the two squares was a thin piece of parchment. The original text was written in ancient Greek, as it was also used in the main religious text of the Biatas people. The brunet translated it as he read the prophecy:

"« Fear the humans as Zeus feared them. They were once the greatest of the sons. When one will find answer in the other, both will realize the reason why the sky and thunder God split them. And thus, the Universe will be within their reach. » "

COLLISION PLAYLIST

[CHAPTER I - Wicked Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9KG7_Jd4WE) [Chris Isaak](https://genius.com/Chris-isaak-wicked-game-lyrics) 4:49

[CHAPTER II - Remember](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nl9rFir6v8I) [Seinabo Sey ft. Jacob Banks](https://genius.com/Seinabo-sey-remember-lyrics) 4:15

[Code by Layouttesst](http://layouttesst.livejournal.com/profile)


	3. You Crave It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally ! I'm happy to announce I'm now working with a beta-reader and the chapters will be way more pleasant to read. astralchaos is doing a great job, she's my savior so please : give her a round of applause <3\. 
> 
> I'll try to update the fic more often since i'm getting some holidays for the first week of september. Hope you enjoy this third chapter of Kyle's adventure in space :)

Was it a good idea to follow Kenny through the small alleys of Dipolela? Probably not. The night was terribly hot that evening. Many young people were laughing and singing outside. The neighborhood was very noisy. He felt sorry for the people who lived here. How did they manage to sleep at night? The muffled sound of various tunes was heard behind the walls of nightclubs and bars that were close to each other as Kyle's legs moved reluctantly forward.

The street was dark, lit only by the bright neon lights hanging from the entrance of each place of debauchery. The dominant colors were green and purple, reflecting off his black perfecto leather jacket which was a bit large for him. Underneath, he wore a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans. It felt weird for Kenny who used to see his friend in military gear.

"I think those jeans make your ass look great," he said with his half-burnt cigarette stuck between his teeth.

The curly haired boy couldn't help but blush and look away. "Thank you for embarrassing me in public."

Kenny chuckled. "Everyone’s too wasted to pay any attention to us."

He wasn’t wrong and it reassured Kyle. He didn't want people paying attention to him tonight. He liked to go unnoticed. Especially since it was the first time in five years he had really mingled with the young population of Semele. He didn’t know the social codes among the population, nor how they worked. What were they drinking there? Did men and women frequent the same places? Did people go to semelian parties to seduce others or just to have a good time with their friends? Was it frowned upon to be alone in your corner? His questioning stopped when the blond's hand pushed open the door of a nightclub after walking about forty minutes in the neighborhood. As soon as he stepped into the hall and the door closed behind him, he felt the vibrations of the music envelop his whole body.

The first thing that surprised him was the amount of humans present at the party. He gave his friend a questioning look. The blond arched an eyebrow, pretending not to understand his reaction before heading to the counter of the giant bar. Usually, humans were still an overwhelming minority in public places. After all, very few had survived and immigrated to the planet. Probably a few million. Tonight, it was the other way around even if there were still some Biatas present at the club. 

Physically, the Biatas were mainly recognizable by the color of their skin: it varied between deep purple and navy blue. Usually, Biatas women had purple skin, and men bluish, although this was not a constant. If you paid more attention to their eyes, you could see that their pupils were much wider than human eyes. 

His legs had followed his friend absently. The latter did not even ask his opinion before ordering at the bar. Kyle’s body was a little tense as he observed the behavior of the people around him while the bartender placed two glasses on the counter. He poured a strong-smelling orange liquid into it, which must have been some kind of alcohol, then added ice cubes and water.

"Here’s two Arak for you guys," he said, taking the money Kenny was holding in his hand.

"Thanks, man," he responded and took the drinks, handing one to the redhead. "Trust me, you’re gonna like it."

Kyle hesitated for a moment before taking the glass and putting his lips against it. The taste was strong, the smell hadn't been lying.

"It tastes like shit, Kenny," he winced, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"I **knew** you were going to be a pain in the ass tonight," the taller one gave him a murderous look.

"We should have gone to the movies or—" the redhead trailed off as his eyes fell on a young man who was weaving through the crowd for several feet before pushing the bathroom door open at the back of the room. The stranger was short and had short, platinum blond hair. But he wasn't really a stranger to Kyle. He knew that cherub face all too well.

"Am I dreaming, or did I just see Butters?" He gave a hysterical laugh before turning to his friend _who wasn't there_. He spun around, confused, but didn't see him anywhere around.

 _The son of a bitch. He left me_. He sighed before stepping into the crowd. The people formed a circle in the center of the dancefloor. Kyle placed himself in a strategic place in order to be able to observe the scene. A young man stood first in the middle of the floor to start a dance battle. People cheered him on loudly. Even though Kyle was watching the boy's dance steps intently, his thoughts traveled back to Butters. It was weird to see him tonight. He hadn't seen him for the past three years. The redhead was so engrossed in his work. On the other hand, he had never been close to the small blond. He was only an old acquaintance from school. But seeing him again had brought back all kinds of memories of South Park. What he dreaded daily happened: Kyle was now plunged into melancholy. Even when a loud applause rose in the hall to make way for another dancer, the young man didn’t wake up. 

"It warms my heart to see our brothers and sisters so happy tonight."

He turned his face towards the voice that had just spoken to him. A young woman was standing to his right, her shoulder almost glued to Kyle's. She sported long gray braids tied in a high ponytail. She was giving him a genuine smile and Kyle thought she was very pretty. He hesitated for a moment, not understanding what she meant. _Brothers? Sisters?_ Was it a way of speaking among youngsters?

"Uh… yeah," he said after a few seconds. He didn't want to snub the stranger but didn't know how else to answer either. "An evening to let off steam after a lot of work is indeed essential."

"Tell me about it!" She shook her head, a weaker smile now on her lips, "By the way, I'm Nandi," she said, holding out her hand.

"Kyle." He squeezed her hand delicately, returning a smile, sincere too.

She turned again to look at the dancers. "Don't you feel like going on the track?" she asked, her voice full of amusement and looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Kyle huffed, raising his eyebrows. "Oh believe me, no one in this room wants to see such a disaster."

She pouted to show that she didn't entirely agree, looking away. "I think **someone** would be really pleased to see it." Now her voice was suggestive.

Sure, Kyle was missing something. No matter what came out of her mouth, it felt like Nandi was a puzzle and that he needed the last piece to complete it to understand the young woman.

The latter saw Kyle’s gaze full of incomprehension but ignored it. The situation visibly amused her. "It’s weird, I’ve never seen you at the headquarters."

Okay, now it was **too** weird. "Sorry but—" Kyle interrupted her. "The headquarters?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

Nandi parted her lips, puzzled, then closed them. "Oh. My bad. I must have misread his attitude."

"Who?" Kyle asked again, looking straight into Nandi's eyes for some answer to their big misunderstanding.

Kyle's bright green eyes intimidated her. She was looking away, pursing her lips.

"Well, our leader has been staring at you ever since you arrived," she confessed, looking up at the top of the nightclub. Kyle hadn't even paid attention to it when he entered the premises. The nightclub had a second floor, a kind of interior balcony where a small group of people were partying. Leaning against the railing that separated the balcony from the void was Kyle's worst nightmare.

_No. Way_. 

Intrigued, Nandi was obviously waiting for an answer from the stranger. But he felt his body tensing up. He had captured the piercing gaze of his enemy. His mind was racing, trying to find an explanation for his presence. The man had both arms crossed that rested against the guardrail, and his back was bent forward. His hair was slicked back perfectly to the side and he was dressed in a burgundy turtleneck and black pants cinched at his waist. Despite the darkness, he could easily see the hint of a smirk on his lips. As always, his smile was driving him crazy.

He took the last sip of his glass without batting an eye and placed the glass in Nandi's hand without even asking her permission. As he made his way across the room, he didn't bother brushing back the loosened curls of his hair that fell in front of his eyes. As he stepped forward he saw out of the corner of his gaze Cartman, who was staring at him, straightening up and walking along the railing, his hand slipping nonchalantly against the guardrail. Kyle stopped himself at the bottom of the black spiral staircase that led to the upper floor, but the path was blocked by a velvet rope and a security guard.

"The second floor is reserved for members of the office." The man uttered these words like a machine. He had surely repeated this sentence some fifty times during the evening.

Kyle looked up, eyes full of fury, at the huge man in a suit. "I need to speak with Eric Cartman," he spoke curtly. He wished the man knew that his anger wasn’t directed toward him. But he had other priorities right now.

The security guard opened his mouth. "You can’t go—"

"What do you want to say to Eric Cartman?"

Kyle turned his gaze towards the man who had cut him off: he had just arrived behind the big security guard. The first thing he noticed was his eyes _. Blue_ . _Brown_. His fists clenched together tightly.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he spat.

The man that stood between the two enemies frowned, not understanding the origin of the argument. Kyle must have looked crazy.

The brunet let out a disdainful laugh. "You're at my party, Broflovski." 

_What?_ It couldn't be possible. _Did Kenny know? Did he have a role in this whole story?_ He felt deeply betrayed, without even knowing why. 

Despite the distance between them, Kyle leaned over the security officer's shoulder and gave him a threatening look. "Have you lost your mind? You have no right to be here."

"Oh yeah?" Cartman arched his left eyebrow as he came closer, stepping down the stairs. "And whatcha gonna do, Jew-boy?"

 _Jew-boy_. Being a jew always sounded like an insult in the fatass’ mouth. The redhead plunged his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and suddenly pulled out his gun to point it at Cartman's face. "Blow your brains out."

The security guard had an alarmed expression on his face and a collective cry of surprise rose around them. The tall man tried to grab Kyle's wrists, but Kyle was quick enough to step back. "I’M GUARDIAN 707, NOBODY MOVES!" he yelled then took out his golden badge in his left hand to show it, looking at the people around him who slowly began to move backwards for fear of receiving a bullet. 

No one noticed, but the Adam's apple of the HRP leader bobbed. He knew that Kyle was a First Lieutenant, but not that he was also a Guardian. Within seconds, the fate of the group could change forever, and people would want to behead Cartman first.

Kyle could sense the many angry stares on him. Even though the music continued, everyone stopped talking. He returned his gaze to the man he was pointing his gun at. His fingers were firm on the trigger, but his soul was trembling inside him.

Cartman was no longer in the mood to taunt him. He raised both hands in the air, showing his innocence. The security guard was still standing between them. "Don’t worry, guys, this is just a misunderstanding," he said without taking his eyes off Kyle.

"You should be worried. There's a wanted notice on your fucking head." 

An emotion crossed Cartman's heterochromatic eyes. Something like… _pain?_ He wouldn't have thought that Kyle would have disclosed his identity to the Semelian authorities. Even though it was understandable. The brunet glanced briefly at Kenny, who was running to meet them, his gaze now full of incomprehension.

"Kyle!" he cried out out of breath, before placing a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "Please, stop," he asked him. 

There was tension in the air. The Guardian was not ready to lower his gun.

"I almost DIED in the desert because of this asshole! He’s coming with me!" Kyle swayed on both legs as his heart pounded hard against his rib cage.

The music had now stopped. Kenny and Cartman exchanged a look. Kyle hadn't paid attention, but the two men’s gazes were full of reproach and questioning. The blond brought his lips closer to his friend's ear to avoid being overheard by everyone. "You’ll have to trust me on this one. We **can’t** arrest him."

"What?!" Kyle exclaimed, looking his friend straight in the eyes, their faces inches apart. Right now, he wanted to shake Kenny to get him to pull himself together and make him understand the gravity of the situation.

"Kenny’s with us," Cartman cut them off and both looks turned to the leader simultaneously. "He’s a member of the Revolt," he clarified. The brunet had just betrayed the trust of his childhood friend, but it was the only way to save his own ass. He risked meeting the same fate as that king of France, Louis XVI, if he didn’t remedy this mess. 

"Great. Thank you, dumbass," Kenny muttered through gritted teeth and a hypocritical smile on his lips.

Kyle was panicking. He was totally losing control of the situation, and he hated it. "What the hell, Kenny?!" His voice was higher than expected.

The blond looked at him sorryly. "These people aren’t terrorists, Kyle. Believe me. Even if it's very tempting to stick a bullet between the fatass's eyes."

"Hey!" Cartman protested, glaring at Kenny.

Kyle's lower lip twitched slightly. This revelation was like a sledgehammer to his head. His world was turned upside down. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He looked at Eric with a lost expression, filled with shame. Every time he met this old acquaintance he felt as though he was being humiliated. He lowered his gun, looking at the ground, unsettled, and turned around to leave the club, pushing people aggressively in his path.

As Kenny watched him go, unsure whether to chase after him, Cartman spoke to him coldly, "It seems like you forgot to tell me that you were friends with a government member."

Kenny couldn't help but smile haughtily. He fully turned his body to face Cartman, who had come down the stairs and approached him. "Seems like you forgot to write his name and number on the board after your small quarrel in the desert."

 _Touché._ The brunet's cheeks flushed in spite of himself and he couldn't bear to stay any longer under Kenny's mocking gaze. He turned his back to him and walked over to the bar, intending to get the party going again. The blond continued to stare at him in disbelief.

COLLISION PLAYLIST

[CHAPTER I - Wicked Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9KG7_Jd4WE) [Chris Isaak](https://genius.com/Chris-isaak-wicked-game-lyrics) 4:49

[CHAPTER II - Remember](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nl9rFir6v8I) [Seinabo Sey ft. Jacob Banks](https://genius.com/Seinabo-sey-remember-lyrics) 4:15

[CHAPTER III - Ride](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QXftpulPF4) [Lolo Zouaï](https://genius.com/Lolo-zouai-ride-lyrics) 3:10

[Code by Layouttesst](http://layouttesst.livejournal.com/profile)


	4. Part of a Machine, not a Human Being

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys ! Many thanks to all the people who are reading this weird fic haha. I'll try to post the chapters more often. School is taking me too much time, ugh. 
> 
> Thanks a lot also to my beta astralchaos <3 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter !!  
> See u
> 
> TW : slight torture scene at the end of the chapter, but not too graphic

_Humans' Revolt Party Headquarters_

All the members of the research team were gathered in the meeting room. It was a dark and dreary space which had only a few storage units and a very large oval table in the center. Obviously, since the goal was for those present to be as focused as possible on the mission of the day. This time they were there to decipher the original prophecy. It was the biggest job the party had ever had to do. They were all seated around the table, while Eric stood beside a chalkboard where the prophecy had been translated and handwritten.

"Time is running out. I really need you to be serious and focus today. We may even have to move from this place the next few hours," he said with a solemn voice.

They all looked at each other. Ghîta, who was seated on the right side of the table, was the first daring to ask a question. "Does the government know our position?"

"It won't be long now. Some people here just don't know how to shut their mouths," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and staring intently at Kenny.

The latter let out a loud sigh and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, come on! We’re not going to bring this up for discussion again, are we?"

"Did I miss something? What happened?" Bebe Stevens asked, frowning.

Wendy, who was sitting next to her, held her coffee mug in her hands to warm herself up, holding back from laughing when she answered her. "Kyle Broflovski almost killed Cartman last night."

"You’re kidding me?!" She placed her hand against her mouth to stifle her laughter, her eyes wide open. 

"Shut the fuck up, Wendy, that's not what happened at all," Cartman retorted, looking at her nastily. His jaw was twitching in annoyance.

"He was still pointing a gun at your head…" Andrija dared to clarify. He was sitting next to Kenny, staring at his own hands to avoid the threatening gaze of their leader.

Everyone in the room was now laughing out loud. The brunet walked over to the table to strike his fists firmly on it. "You won’t laugh when that motherfucker denounces us all to the authorities and then they come here and torture your families."

Silence returned abruptly in the room.

"He won’t say a word…" Kenny said in an almost inaudible voice. 

"Whatever." Cartman shook his head. He wasn’t absolutely convinced of what he said since Kyle had already denounced **him**. Having known Kyle since childhood, he knew full well that the Guardian was unpredictable. He straightened up before continuing. "We’re here today to reveal the secrets of the original prophecy, in the hope that it may prove to be a weapon against the government."

Movement started across the table. Wendy and Andrija pulled out their glasses to put them on, while others pulled out notepads or opened their notebooks to start taking notes.

"Have you ever had access to this prophecy?" Cartman's question was aimed directly to Ghîta and Andrija, as well as Indra, the three biatas of the room. They were among the few Biatas members of the HRP. Ghîta and Indra were two women who helped HRP understand issues pertaining to Semele's politics and culture, while Andrija was a man who backed up the organization’s armory. The three individuals were looking at each other.

"No one has ever had access to it. But it obviously refers to the _symbolon_ , which is part of the oral tradition of our religion," Indra replied. She was sitting next to Andrija.

" _Symbolon_?" Kenny asked, frowning.

"It is the belief that a biatas is not complete until they find their other half. Two halves of a whole," Ghîta specified. She was seated to Bebe's left.

"Yeah, but the weird thing is that the prophecy mentions humans!" Andrija exclaimed. 

"I agree," Indra nodded, staring into space.

A long silence settled in the room, then Wendy cleared her throat. "But, um, what exactly happens when a Biatas finds their other half?" That was the burning question the whole HRP was thinking about. 

“You are promised eternal life,” Indra replied as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? Immortality?" Cartman asked with shining eyes. 

"No it’s metaphorical, like, you are sure to go to Paradise and rest in peace," Andrija clarified. 

"Awesome, now we know how to bring the HRP to Heaven,” Kenny said with undisguised sarcasm as he looked at Cartman.

"We’re fucked," the leader confirmed, looking at Kenny straight in the eye. Both had understood that this prophecy would most likely get them nowhere. 

"Wait, there are other things that we haven't analyzed!" Bebe exclaimed in an attempt to calm the two young men. "It says that humans are the greatest beings, and they will have access to the Universe if they find their other half. That’s quite something, right?"

"Yeah, but that still doesn't explain how a human can find their other half," Wendy sighed, supporting her head in the palms of her hands.

"It’s complete nonsense," Ghîta added, nibbling her lower lip nervously. 

"I think we should all fuck eachother in the HRP and then we'll know if any are soul mates," Andrija suggested, half-joking. 

Wendy, Bebe and Ghîta who were seated in front of him stared at Andrija in despair, their eyes full of judgment. 

"I think that's a fucking great idea," Kenny said, patting Andrija proudly on the shoulder, before turning his gaze to the young women with a smirk. 

"Why don’t you two start then?" Bebe suggested with a fake smile. 

"Oh, we already have," Kenny confirmed with a nod and Andrija couldn't help but laugh.

As everyone began to comment on the situation across the table, the small team got into a heated discussion. Eric, who was still standing in front of the board, was popping his veleda marker open and closed in his hand, staring into space. He didn't want to confess it out loud, but he felt like the more they tried to decipher the prophecy, the more they were going backwards and sinking into uncertainty. It was not a good thing. They had been taking big risks lately to get that golden square. They had exposed themselves far too much to the scrutiny of the Guardians. They therefore didn’t have much time ahead of them and had to make a hypothesis quickly and explore it at all costs. Things could get totally out of hand and Eric had a hard time not panicking.

As his brain speeded up unexpectedly, it forced him to relive a memory he thought he had completely forgotten.

_August 27th, year 2037_

_Eric Cartman had never been a fan of of death. He was 23 the year he had to make the difficult choice to escape. His narcissism would never have allowed him to let himself die slowly in the midst of the flames._

_It was extremely hot outside. His clothes were drenched in sweat from head to toe and there was a very unpleasant smell in the air. He felt his throat itch every time he breathed in air. In his backpack there were a few things that he thought were important to take with him. Photos of him and the boys. His diary. A change of clothes. And items he thought were precious that he could perhaps use to barter on this new planet. He was in one of the huge queues where humans waited their turns to enter one of the space vehicles. Some were waiting alone, others with their families, and others with their neighbors. The young man was waiting with his mother. If Liane Cartman was letting her tears fall as she kept repeating how horrible the situation they found themselves in was, her son was strangely silent. Usually he was the one who caused chaotic situations in South Park, but this time, he was the one suffering. And he hated it._

_Sunburns had formed on his milky skin by the time they got near the vehicle entrance. Now that the Cartman family could be seated in the transport, the brunet glanced around nervously and impatiently. It was there that he noticed that a few feet to his right, green eyes were staring at him. He blinked. Kyle, along with his family and Stan Marsh waiting behind him, also got ready to get into another vehicle. Eric didn't dare take his eyes off the redhead's. The young man's lips silently spoke something to the brunet, but he couldn't guess what. Eric felt his shoulder get caught by one of the Guardians who pushed him hard to get on the vehicle. This memory of Kyle was the last he had on Earth and it haunted him for the next few nights._

_The space trip had lasted several days but he would be unable to say exactly how many. The Guardians had given them no information and remained mostly silent. Humans were traveling on the floor of the vehicle, close to each other. Many had been gripped by anxiety._

_When they finally arrived on Semele, the humans were relieved to step out of the vehicle. But the wait was still going to be long._ _They had ended up in the undergrounds of the Centrum, and they were all again divided into various queues_ _._ _Eric felt dirty. He wanted only one thing: to have a bath, get clean clothes, and get some sleep on a mattress rather than on a cold floor. But he didn't even know if it would be possible or even if it would be one of his rights on this planet. Who guaranteed human rights in the universe?_ _Looking around, he saw that he didn't know anyone except his mother. He wondered where his friends and the rest of South Park were, and if he would see them again soon. He waited for what seemed like hours in the cold, grayish dungeons before he could enter through a door that led to an office. When he turned to see if his mother was following him, he saw that the Guardian had held her back._ _Liane's face was seized with panic. Eric was puzzled but didn't care that much. The second Guardian guarding the door ordered him, "You’re entering alone."_

_The young man swallowed and put a foot in the office. The Biatas sitting at the desk was dressed in a different (and seemingly more sophisticated) outfit than the Guardians, which was shiny black with a green line on either side of its sleeves. He looked at Eric sternly, showing him the chair opposite his desk to sit on. He wanted so much to insult them, it itched him. But he still had to test the waters._

_"Fill out this form," the Biatas indicated in his firm voice, slipping a piece of paper and a pencil on the desk in the direction of the brunet._

_The latter's gaze alternated between the Biatas and the paper. The alien didn’t intend to take his eyes off him. He would stare at him throughout the whole process. Eric decided to obey just to see what was written on the paper._

_YOUR IDENTITY NUMBER ON SEMELE WILL BE_ **_0106HSD_ **

_NAME/SURNAME ON PLANET EARTH :_

_BIRTH DATE :_

_NATIONALITY :_

_GENDER :_

_HEALTH CONDITION :_

_"While you are writing, I will ask you questions that you will answer with yes or no. Is that clear to you?"_

_Eric clenched his teeth in response, still staring at the sheet. "Yes."_

_"Would you define yourself as a stubborn person?"_

_"_ _Not at all."_

_"Please answer only with yes or no."_

_“No.”_

_"Have you ever been involved in physical fights?"_

_"No."_

_"Do you get along with members of your family?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Were you liked by your teachers at school?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Would you mind giving up your relationships if our government considered them dangerous?"_

_The human's wrist twitched slightly on the pencil, but he didn't move an inch. "No."_

_"Are you in love with someone?"_

_The question caught him off guard. He didn't quite understand the point of such a question and had a few very short seconds of thinking before answering. "No."_

_"Are you willing to submit to the laws of the Republic of Semele?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Thank you for answering. You can now exit after completing the form."_

_Eric scraped the chair on the floor to get up, then mechanically handed the paper to the Biatas. He bowed and left the room through the second door, under the gaze of the interviewer. The latter glanced at the young man's answers._

_YOUR IDENTITY NUMBER ON SEMELE WILL BE_ **_0106HSD_ **

_NAME/SURNAME ON PLANET EARTH:_ **_YOU_ **

_BIRTH DATE:_ **_CAN_ **

_NATIONALITY:_ **_GO_ **

_GENDER:_ **_FUCK_ **

_HEALTH CONDITION:_ **_YOURSELF_ **

_Centrum, Unknown room_

A heart-rending cry filled the room. Echoes of metal colliding bounced off the walls. From the corridors, one could easily tell that a person was suffering behind them. Inside, the temperature was really low and surfaces were cold despite the extreme brightness of the room. The white walls gave the place a surgery room-like appearance.

The Governor and a dozen Guardians were in the room, circling its center. Their faces did not give off any emotion. They were all unmoved by the scene that presented itself to them. The Governor, for his part, looked annoyed.

"You’re lying." It wasn’t a question. The Governor showed no doubt in his voice.

Another heartbreaking cry from an individual who seemed to be in pain. This lasted longer.

"NO, I’M NOT! I— I SWEAR I DID NOT VOLUNTARILY GIVE UP THE SHIP! P-PLEASE…"

Kyle Broflovski – or Guardian 707, as they called him – was lying shirtless on a cold metal table. A generator placed at his side on the table was connected by clamps to various sensitive parts of his upper body. Many burns that looked like big cigarette marks filled the young man's chest, now all red and sore. One of the Guardians positioned close to the table wore a huge glove on his right hand. Over it, he wore a sort of ring on his middle finger that was bright red. It was with this object that he amused himself by burning Kyle in order to extract information from him.

Of course, that was just the start of their interview. If he kept resisting, Kyle knew full well that the abuse would gradually get worse. He had gone to work as usual today, and he never imagined for a second that his life would turn upside down like this.

He could give up right now. All he had to do was say Cartman's name. Indicate places frequented by HRP members. Give two or three additional names. Indicate their objective. But his body was incapable of it. His mouth couldn't do it. The HRP leader's first name stuck in his throat. The redhead stared at the ceiling as his tears flowed relentlessly.

"You left the airspace that was assigned to you, 707. You already know what the sanction is for Guardians who disobey missions ordered by the Governor."

Oh yeah. It was **death**.

"I’M SORRY, I— SOMEONE HACKED THE RADIO, I— I WASN’T AWARE—"

"We have no evidence of this communication. No member of our team in the control towers has been able to trace your interaction with the terrorist." 

He wanted to kill the fatass. He wanted to destroy him. He wanted to kill him with his bare hands. 

He felt an object pinch his skin hard over his ribs before feeling an electric shock spread from head to toe. The pain had been so much that he dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Again, he screamed very loudly to release the shock he had felt. His body had never experienced such things. And he couldn't take this much dose of pain. Drool was trickling from the corners of his lips and he was feeling very nauseous. He was already imagining himself choking on his own vomit, since he was unable to get up. He was held by straps at his outstretched arms.

"This is your last chance. Give us a name, or you’re dead in the next ten seconds, **Broflovsk** i," the Governor threatened, strangely insisting on his surname.

Kyle opened his eyes wide as he watched the Governor approach him. His face above him was threatening. Kyle's breathing became heavier and heavier, and he was sure that in any second he wouldn't be able to breathe at all.

"I won't spare your family. Give us a name now," repeated the Governor, spitting out his words one by one.

His stomach was spinning and he was on the verge of blacking out, because he knew he wouldn't be able to expose the culprit, and therefore his end had come. His vision was blurring. He could only see a few black figures and the various blinding lights. 

"GIVE US A NAME!" the Governor yelled, pulling a long knife out of his cloak to press his blade against Kyle's Adam's apple. The latter gasped at that moment. He managed to let out a completely rash response before he felt his conscience give up on him.

"Stan Marsh."

COLLISION PLAYLIST

[CHAPTER I - Wicked Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9KG7_Jd4WE) [Chris Isaak](https://genius.com/Chris-isaak-wicked-game-lyrics) 4:49

[CHAPTER II - Remember](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nl9rFir6v8I) [Seinabo Sey ft. Jacob Banks](https://genius.com/Seinabo-sey-remember-lyrics) 4:15

[CHAPTER III - Ride](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QXftpulPF4) [Lolo Zouaï](https://genius.com/Lolo-zouai-ride-lyrics) 3:10

[CHAPTER IV - Gasoline](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRHNi3QfFlE) [Halsey](https://genius.com/Halsey-gasoline-lyrics) 3:10

[Code by Layouttesst](http://layouttesst.livejournal.com/profile)


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